we can't punch ourselves awake | warnings for major character death, guns, and fire | casey/hunter | 1/2
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This is an end.
Not the end, not for you, at least, not yet
(that comes later, smelling like expensive perfume and lime shampoo, wearing a face you know well but never thought you’d see again, but that’s a story for another time)
but this - Hunter with the gun shaking in his hands, eyes wide and stuck on yours, a burning building as your backdrop - this is an end.
“Casey,” Hunter says, and his voice is shaking, too. Something underneath you tilts, and you can’t tell whether it’s metaphorical or literal. Maybe it’s both. The world is falling apart - metaphorically and literally - after all
( ... )
the first thing you should know about this is that from the day it was written i continue to revisit it, reread it, and experience my very legitimate death, ad infinitum. mostly i think about how i have still not written a proper comment, mostly because every time i try i am too far on the floor to reach the keyboard, because you have killed me, and i can no longer hold myself in a sitting position. i also think about how perfect and horrible it is and how it is one of my most favorite things in the known universe. so i OWE IT A PROPER COMMENT, EVEN THOUGH IT WILL JUST BE ME SCREAMING FOR 500 YEARS; I.E., "MY LONGEST YEA BOI EVER," EXCEPT I AM CRYING. ETC.!!!
Not the end, not for you, at least, not yet
( ... )
TL;DR: YOU ARE AWFUL AND I HATE YOU AND I PRINTED THIS OUT AND IT'S IN MY DESK AND I READ IT SOMETIMES WHEN I FEEL LIKE SUFFERING AND/OR REMEMBERING WHAT WRITING IS AND WHY IT'S IMPORTANT AND WHY I LOVE IT. THIS WAS PROBABLY LIKE NOTHING TO YOU BUT TO ME IT IS EVERYTHING. THANK YOU. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU. THANK YOU.
---
This is an end.
Not the end, not for you, at least, not yet
(that comes later, smelling like expensive perfume and lime shampoo, wearing a face you know well but never thought you’d see again, but that’s a story for another time)
but this - Hunter with the gun shaking in his hands, eyes wide and stuck on yours, a burning building as your backdrop - this is an end.
“Casey,” Hunter says, and his voice is shaking, too. Something underneath you tilts, and you can’t tell whether it’s metaphorical or literal. Maybe it’s both. The world is falling apart - metaphorically and literally - after all ( ... )
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the first thing you should know about this is that from the day it was written i continue to revisit it, reread it, and experience my very legitimate death, ad infinitum. mostly i think about how i have still not written a proper comment, mostly because every time i try i am too far on the floor to reach the keyboard, because you have killed me, and i can no longer hold myself in a sitting position. i also think about how perfect and horrible it is and how it is one of my most favorite things in the known universe. so i OWE IT A PROPER COMMENT, EVEN THOUGH IT WILL JUST BE ME SCREAMING FOR 500 YEARS; I.E., "MY LONGEST YEA BOI EVER," EXCEPT I AM CRYING. ETC.!!!
Not the end, not for you, at least, not yet ( ... )
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